Stay Warm
by Star-Crossed Rose
Summary: Fleece-lined jeans aren't pretty, but they sure are comfy. Of course, only Hermione knows this... Or does someone else understand that warmth comes before fashion? A start of a friendship, or maybe more. You can look at it however you want to.


**Hi! This wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to write it. Maybe now I can get back to my other stories.**

**This is for everyone wearing something that is in some way unflattering to stay warm.**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Rowling and I don't own Cabela's, but I do own a pair of Cabela's fleece-lined jeans****!**

The best thing about being generally acknowledged as unfashionable was that you could wear whatever you wanted and there was no new gossip about you. So when winter hit Hogwarts, Hermione had no problem staying warm and comfortable.

Of course, the other girls were trying to dress with style, which meant ignoring the weather. Who cared about how freezing your bare legs were when the short skirt showed off your perfect figure so well? Just Hermione.

After the war, Hermione had worried about returning to Hogwarts. She'd been fending off paparazzi all summer, and didn't want her own peers to be star-struck by her. Luckily, as everyone at Hogwarts had gone through the war, they didn't see her as any better than them. That was perfect. She was content to be "just Hermione".

It was just another year. Sure, the "eighth years" were different, but classes were normal. Winter was as freezing as always, and most of Hogwarts was unprepared, as usual.

Everyone complained of the cold. Even those who didn't dress like it was summer didn't want to put on anything ugly, even for the sake of warmth. Hermione couldn't help but count the number of times she heard a whine. She herself never grumbled, partly because no one cared anymore, partly because she was perfectly warm, rendering the statement invalid.

Dressed in fleece-lined jeans and a holiday sweater, Hermione was making her way to the library. As her reputation was solidly where she wanted it to be (that is, the lowest of the low in anything but knowledge), she didn't expect anything out of the ordinary.

"I didn't know baggy was back in style, or is that just mudbloods?"

This wasn't out of the ordinary, but it didn't hurt any less. Stupid Slytherins… Blaise Zabini had been keeping his comments to himself less and less since the beginning of the term. Malfoy was there too, and was opening his mouth. She prepared herself for more insults.

"Oh, baggy _definitely_ isn't in style." Typical Slytherin. They were so predictable. "But fleece-lined is."

Okay, maybe not so predictable.

"Cabela's?"

It took Hermione a moment to realize he had kept talking, and another to figure out he was talking to her. She nodded, somewhat surprised he knew of and could recognize the muggle American brand.

"I went last weekend, and they were sold out," Malfoy griped good-naturedly. Wait, what?

Malfoy, good-natured? His very name meant bad faith! But he hadn't done anything mean since the beginning of term. Or over the summer, since the end of the war… But even during the war, he had helped them. Pretended not to recognize them. And all during sixth year, it was now clear that he only did what he did for his family. Technically, all of what he had ever done to her and her friends had been for his family.

Hermione supposed she could forgive and forget, but why the sudden show of friendliness? She looked into Malfoy's eyes. They shifted to Zabini, and back to her. Oh. Zabini had been the only Slytherin still pursuing the old attitude. Malfoy wanted to slap that way of thinking out of him, which was why he was having a conversation with her, of all people. Well, she could play along. It was a goal which she shared.

This thought process didn't take long, and she moved on from his tone to the words themselves. How did he get to Cabela's last weekend? They weren't even on the same continent! It had, however, been a Hogsmeade weekend, and most of the shops were connected to the Floo network, but she had never seen a student step into or out of any of the fireplaces.

"I didn't know students were allowed to use the Floo network," Hermione said, not bothering to explain her thought process. She was pleased when no hint of confusion crossed Malfoy's face. Finally, someone with a mind as quick as her own!

"McGonagall gives a note to anyone who asks." At the conversation's continuation, Zabini seemed to realize this wouldn't end in insults, and muttered something about going to the library. He stalked off, but could still see them. Hermione hesitated. Now that he couldn't hear them, would Malfoy quit the nice act? They both knew that if he did, Hermione would have to just stand there and smile for as long as Zabini could see them.

Her hesitation was noticed, as was the sad look that flickered in Malfoy's eyes for a second. Well, that was proof enough for Hermione. He genuinely wanted to have a civil conversation. "Thanks for the tip. That'll be useful."

"For Wonder Boy to get himself into more trouble?"

Hermione caught her breath. An insult was at the tip of her tongue, but technically, it was a neutral statement. She would have- and had- said the same thing to Harry's face. Malfoy seemed to be regretting his words.

"I don't plan on telling him unless he asks. He finds enough ways to kill himself without my help," she said cheerfully, though with a tiny hint of coldness. Hopefully he would interpret that to mean she had no problem with teasing, but would have a problem with anything more.

Malfoy seemed relieved. Then his eyes narrowed, and he looked undeniably Slytherin. The cunning side, that is. She had always admired that trait in the Slytherins, as it overlapped into Ravenclaw. "Could that be interpreted to mean you don't do his homework?"

"Figuratively, yes." She watched his face fall. "…and also literally."

"If you'll excuse me, Pansy owes me five Sickles." He started walking toward the Slytherin dungeons.

_If you'll excuse me…_ That particular farewell could be interpreted as implying they would speak again later. Meaning this wasn't just a one-time conversation. Meaning new things _can_ be born from the ashes, and we're not talking about phoenixes here.

Watching Malfoy walk away, Hermione realized that neither of them had used the others' name in the conversation. Well, it was a time for firsts…

"Hey, Draco, is fleece-lined really in style?"

He turned back, somewhat shocked, but then he offered a half-smile. "It's _winter_, Hermione. 'Tis the season."

'Tis the season, indeed. Not just for fleece-lined jeans, but for kindness, forgiveness, and new starts.

He seemed hesitant to full-on smile. Hermione knew they were both still on thin ice, but sometimes an ice-breaker is better than getting off the ice. She grinned at him. "Stay warm."

She was the one to turn this time. She walked to the library, her original goal. Sure, Zabini was now there, but she wasn't afraid of him anymore.

At the library, her mind was too busy to focus on how dragon's blood can be used for all twelve uses at once. She sat down without picking a book.

She hoped Draco did stay warm, in all senses of the word. If his attitude didn't go frosty again, she might just send him some fleece-lined jeans for Christmas. Hermione had got them for Harry, but her brother had had another growth spurt. That is, her future brother-in-law had had another growth spurt. Hermione knew what would happen. She read, after all.

Instead of writing her essay, Hermione used the parchment to write her Christmas gift ideas. Draco was first on the list.

He wasn't generally acknowledged as unfashionable- quite the opposite, in fact. But he would have no problem being warm and comfortable despite any new gossip it might spark about him.

All throughout winter, Draco and Hermione stayed warm.

**...as I hope all you do too!**

**Please review! Did I miss something important? How's my style? Was this worth reading? Should I write more Dramione? Why, yes, I should.**


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